


Writer's Block

by boats_birds



Series: Of Prompts and Requests [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Writer Kuroko, Writer's Block, in which Kuroko is frustrated and Kagami is a tree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boats_birds/pseuds/boats_birds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just that, in all honesty, writing a knight in shining armor of all things shouldn’t be this difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

> 'Something with kuroko as a writer and kagami as his muse?'
> 
> I don't do writer Kuroko justice, I really don't (I'm really uncertain about how I started and ended this). I'd like to maybe expand on this one day though, because I really do love Kuroko as an author and Kagami inspiring him and making sure Kuroko's still alive when deadlines come around. Either way, I hope this is good enough for such an adorable prompt~

_The knight rode gallantly across the plains, his powerful steed rushing in a blur of legs, chestnut mane flowing in the wind. His armor clinked with every stride, his sword bouncing at his side like the ticking of time. He was an image of valor, quiet in his splendor, as he raced._

_That bravery would serve him well in the upcoming battle, against the feared dragon he swore to defeat._

_He had volunteered to go, for the sake of their castle and all of its occupants, for the surrounding villages and all of their families. Too long had the dragon tortured them with its presence, with fangs the length of swords and the color of blood. No one else had dared challenge the beast, and yet he picked up his sharpened steel with determination in its edge._

_They came to a halt, his mount’s hooves slipping on the graveled trail. He peered over his surroundings, forest-green eyes scanning the horizon, before removing his helm. Scrubbing a hand through his long blond hair, he looked towards the woodland in the distance, sun gleaming behind his valiant figure._

_His name was…_ Terrible. Absolutely terrible.

* * *

Kuroko sighed and scratched through line after line, pen sliding across descriptions and paragraphs until nothing remained but a mess of scribbles and chicken-scratch criticisms written in the columns.

He tossed his pen aside and nearly closed his notebook in frustration. He knew writing was sometimes a challenge, sometimes the ink well ran dry and the pencil lead broke, no matter how he willed for the words to surge onto paper. It was an occupational hazard of being an up-and-coming author, just enough to his name for promise but not enough that anyone actually knew said name. And he was okay with that.

It was just that, in all honesty, writing a  _knight in shining armor_  of all things shouldn’t be this difficult.

Rubbing at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, he sighed again. He thought that a fantasy adventure novel would be fun to write, imagination stretching with the wings of a dragon, creativity sparking like the stirring of magic. But no, instead he was left with the most generic plot and a hero so flat Kuroko could’ve used him as a new writing desk.

He shifted back in his seat, glancing around at the usual patrons of the small café. He always came here when he felt his writer’s block start, slowly building itself brick by brick around his ideas and vocabulary. It was quiet and comforting, the pictures on the walls as familiar to him as his own apartment. The smell of coffee and freshly baked goods always wafted through the doors, tempting him inside with the delicious aroma of vanilla cupcakes. But most importantly, one of the waiters—

“Hey, Kuroko. You want the usual?”

Kuroko smiled before he even met red eyes with his own. “Yes, please. But may I have my coffee black today, Kagami-kun?”

Kagami towered over him, especially since Kuroko was seated, like a looming, extremely attractive tree that Kuroko wouldn’t mind basking in its shade. Or climbing sometimes. By no means should anyone look that good in a button-up and an apron, but it was the same shade of red as Kagami’s hair, and he somehow managed to look that good with no effort.

As he was thinking: most importantly, one of the waiters was very,  _very_  easy on wide, blue eyes.

Large hands patted at the pockets of his apron before long, thick fingers reached to steal Kuroko’s pen off the table. He jotted down Kuroko’s order and grinned. “Got it. I’ll be back later.”

As he walked away to take another patron’s order, Kuroko watched the muscles of his back and arms shift, shirt just a little too tight on him. How did he even get muscles like that working as a waiter? Was it just moving boxes or did he work out? Kuroko got caught up in thinking of both, and found he didn’t mind either way as long as he could watch some time.

But, of course, as Kuroko  _should’ve_  expected but somehow didn’t, that wasn’t the end of it. Kagami wasn’t merely just a handsome café waiter with toned biceps and a perfect smile (even if his eyebrows were a little funny). No, he had to have an endearing personality to top it off, one that left Kuroko with a skittering heart and blushing ears.

Kagami was large and awkward in such a little space, his voice loud in the hushed clatter of lattes and his temper as fiery as his hair, but he was still somehow charming. Tacking on his politeness to the end of his sentences, bowing only after he forgot, poking out his tongue in concentration when he tried balancing too many dishes on his arms. It was all so Kagami, and it’s what drew Kuroko in here practically every week.

To make matters worse, Kagami was particularly captivating to the children that came in for sweets and the elderly woman that stopped by for morning coffee.

He was still absentmindedly watching as Kagami carefully gripped the arm of a kind, older woman that frequented, as if he were holding the most fragile of teacups. He gently hoisted her up to her feet, then took his time to shuffle along with her out of the store, idly talking to her in his booming laugh as he did. When she was cleared of the door and the little step down to the sidewalk, Kagami waved, yelling after her, “Come back tomorrow, granny!”

Kuroko dropped his head to the table, hiding his face in his arms as his ears slowly flushed pink. Coming here was  _supposed_  to help him put words on paper, not his face on a table while his heart tried to break out of his ribcage. He’d put too much faith in himself, as if he could go without being distracted by Kagami. He blindly smacked his hand across the table, looking for his pen, and peeked up when he couldn’t find it.

“Looking for this?”

The pen dropped down in front of him, a sandwich and black coffee following close behind. Kagami sat down across from him, gulping his own drink and tearing into one of the biggest sandwiches Kuroko had ever seen. “Ah, yes. Is it your lunch break already, Kagami-kun?”

Dark red eyes peered over at him, before mumbling with his mouth full, “Yeah, figured I might as well eat with you.”

A quiet smile before he sipped at his coffee. “Thank you, I appreciate the company.”

Kagami blinked at him as if in a daze, and Kuroko could’ve sworn that his cheeks looked a little flushed. But then Kagami was reaching and picking up his pen again, poking at his notebook with it. “So, you’re here writing again?”

“Yes, I’m working on my next novel.” He took a small bite of his own sandwich.

“Huh,” Kagami mumbled, sounding genuinely interested. “Anything I’d like?”

Kuroko couldn’t stop the gentle, exhaling laugh through his nose, or the smile that spread wider on his cheeks. “Probably not, Kagami-kun. You don’t read much, do you?”

“Hey! I read sometimes!” he protested, setting his sandwich down to let Kuroko know he was serious.

“Magazines don’t count.”

“…I’d read if I wanted to!” He settled back in his seat as Kuroko chuckled, then slowly reached and took Kuroko’s notebook. Normally, it’d bother him for someone else to look at his work before it was complete (especially such a frustrating one), but he found he didn’t mind if Kagami did. He just took another sip of his coffee.

Kagami glanced over the scribbles and scratches and inky mess. “Anyways, is it not going well or something? You looked really frustrated earlier. And it looks like you took it out on your notebook.”

Kuroko stared across the table as Kagami squinted at his writings, brow furrowed as he tried to decipher what was left of the words. He stared until Kagami looked up at him, eyebrows arched and surprise in his voice. “W-what? Why do you keep looking at me?”

It hit Kuroko much like it always did, the brick wall that held his creativity captive torn down to mere dust. He could write now and the story would flow from his very fingertips, he could feel it down to the itch in his bones, and reveled in the feeling.

He could jump for joy and sing a song and nearly kissed Kagami right then in sheer happiness.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, quickly grabbing his notebook and pen back from Kagami before jotting down as he spoke. “Yes, I was frustrated. It was a case of writer’s block.”

Kagami leaned on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he watched Kuroko write. “Was? Did you figure it all out?”

Kuroko glanced up from his hurried musings, blue eyes boring into red, as Kagami blinked in amazement. He smiled, as genuine and light and blinding as the sun itself, before returning to his work, leaving Kagami with a blush and racing pulse.

“Yes, I’ve found my answer.”

* * *

_He strode across the plains, confidence permeating the very air around him. His steed followed close behind, its midnight mane flowing like spilled ink across the canvas of its build. Steel chainmail clinked with his every movement, no sword or weapon to be found on his person, only his cocky smile and lazy gait._

_If only the dragon knew what was coming, then it would take the skies and never bother to cross his path again._

_He had easily volunteered to go, not only for the sake of the castle’s safety, but also for the rush of adrenaline and the promise of victory. The dragon had murdered too many innocents, sparking a furious flame deep in his gut that burned for him to do_ something _. Everyone had shifted out of his way as he stepped forward, vowing to destroy the beast once and for all, no hesitation or polite bow in his sureness._

_They came to a stop, his mount whinnying beside him and pawing at the ground, unnerved. He peered to the far mountain, as tall and grey as storm clouds, dark red eyes scanning the rocky surface. He raked a hand through his short, just as red hair, hand patting his horse’s neck as the sun began to set behind them in a sky the color of blood._

_He smirked recklessly as his pupils narrowed into slits. He would win this battle, no matter what it cost him. It was his duty, as both a valiant knight, and a fierce dragon himself._


End file.
